


Little Spoon

by pixielove



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: All about Harry as the little spoon, Domestic Larry, Harry makes delicious pancakes, Larry have a puppy, Larry with baby daughter, M/M, One-Shot, Probably the shortest thing I've written, Spooning, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Tumblr art inspiration, harry is the little spoon, larry fluff, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:23:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixielove/pseuds/pixielove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has always been the little spoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Spoon

**Author's Note:**

> I love that H is the little spoon even though he's the giant one, so I had to write a little something to get it out of my system. And also because this kept me awake...  
> <https://www.tumblr.com/reblog/108638860690/WftSvJGN?redirect_to=http%3A%2F%2Fmadam-gypsy.tumblr.com%2Fpage%2F> so full credit to the artist, I've written a bit of that into this, I hope you don't mind. 
> 
> That's all.

**Little Spoon**

 

Harry’s always the little spoon. Despite the fact that Harry Styles is a giant and Louis Tomlinson is a midget, Harry always curls in like a large monarch trying to squeeze back into the chrysalis it emerged from with Louis behind him, a tattooed arm snaked around Harry’s waist. Regardless of whether Louis was in front or if Harry was in front (they kind of share that, really), Harry always ends up a little vulnerable afterwards. When they’re intimate and Harry tops, there’s always a tenderness, gentle like a butterfly, handling Louis, at times, as if he’s a china doll. “I won’t break, love. Promise,” Louis has whispered to Harry on more than one occasion. Only when Louis pinkie promises he’s okay, only when he demands that Harry go faster, go harder, only then does Harry comply. And after, when he slumps on top of his wrecked boy, catching his breath, Louis nudges Harry over and wriggles up behind him, whispering little praises in his ear, “You took care of me so well, baby,” and “You make me feel so good,” whilst brushing stray curls falling into Harry’s eyes out of the way. It’s always been this way. Even when they’re just lazing in bed, sleeping in and forgetting the world. Even in the days of X Factor when they first met, they’d squeeze into a bunk bed, Louis curled up behind Harry, resting his chin in the crook of the younger boy’s neck, peering down at what he was doing on his phone. Harry’s always the little spoon.

 

*****

2017

 

Summer rain lightly sprinkled against the bay windows of the upstairs bedroom of Harry and Louis. Outside, the sky is a vibrant fluorescent pink, the glowing orb of golden sunlight steadily rising while on the opposite corner of the sky, an opaque moon still hangs there, slowly fading away but still visible for a while. This is where sun and moon sometimes meet, two worlds colliding, like the worlds of the two young men, fast asleep, tucked away in their dreams. The younger of the two is actually the larger of the two, lying on his side, long wavy hair cast about the pillow in a messy halo. He’s covered in ink, various stories splattered on his skin forever. It’s a story about being away from home, ships and sailors and how sometimes, home isn’t a place, but a person. And the stories on the older boy’s body reveal a common vision. He has a compass that shows him where to go, revealing where his home is, and his home points to a boy with a ship etched to his arm and an anchor on his wrist.

_“Yo ho Sebastian / Let’s go far away / Somewhere, where the captain won’t be mad / Yo ho Sebastian / I wanna love you good / And we deserve much better than we’ve had…”_

Both men were naked, the sheets crumpled and laying below their thighs. Louis had gone wild with a sharpie the night before, doodling all over Harry between the places he wasn’t covered with tattoos. He’d written ‘mine’ in various places, and had drawn bananas and penises all over Harry. His initials were all over him, too. ‘LT’, and ‘Property of LT’. He’d written Louis in large lettering on Harry’s shoulder and had drawn love hearts on his stomach next to the giant butterfly tattoo. The sharpie was still held in Louis’ slackened grip, one arm slung around Harry’s chest and clutching at his collarbone, his other hand rested on the pillow behind him and his thigh slung between Harry’s legs.

“DaddaDaddaDadda,” a voice suddenly babbled and chubby little hands were pulling at Harry’s curls, yanking them. Harry’s eyes flew open, the early morning disorientation slowly fading when he realised their two year old toddler was sitting on his shoulders, pulling his hair and trying to wake him up. Louis groaned behind him.

“What time do you call this, munchkin,” Louis asked the little girl who looked astonishingly like Harry except with a darker complexion. She had his vivid green eyes, his nose, his mouth – she had even inherited the dimples. Their donor had been a lovely woman and was to remain a close friend, and she was of African descent. It always tickled Harry and Louis when people assumed that any child of theirs could be of no biological relation to either of them because they were both _men_ , and the child was clearly a _person of colour._ Her hair was less wavy like Harry’s and more tight black curly ringlets.

“It’s after eight. It’s breakfast time, isn’t it Jessie?” Harry asked, having swiftly yanked the sheet up to cover them. “Lou, take Jessamy – put some pants on, please. Don’t scar our daughter. Take her to get some breakfast, yeah? I’m just gonna change the sheets and jump in the shower. You realise, we smell like sex. This bed smells like sweat and jizz and it’s just not pleasant,” Harry said, the tip of his nose curling up in disgust.

“Didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Louis reminded him, back turned to Harry and Jessamy now as he pulled some sweatpants on. Harry remained there with the sheet covering him as Louis came to his side and picked Jessamy up, carrying her away downstairs. Sliding out of bed, Harry yanked the sheets off and threw them in the washing basket before heading straight into the bathroom and turning the shower on. Harry quickly showered, washing his hair and soaping down, humming and singing Diana _Ross’ Ain’t no Mountain High Enough_ to himself before turning the shower off, shaking his wet shaggy long mane of hair and fastening a towel around his waist. Soaking wet, Harry grabbed another towel and massaged it through his hair before reaching for the hairdryer and blow-drying his hair until it was nearly dry while his stomach rumbled.

Dashing into the bedroom, Harry changed into some sweatpants and pulled a white tee-shirt on and made quick work of placing new silk sheets onto the bed and then tossing a duvet on top, straightening the corners and making it so that Anne herself would be proud. Harry turned on his heel to head downstairs and join Louis and Jessamy at breakfast but paused, various fingerprints and stickiness all over the bedroom windows catching his attention. Harry sighed and went back into the bathroom, looking under the sink for the Windex window cleaner and an old cloth. Wetting the cloth, Harry approached the windows and cleaned the mess away until it was spotless. Putting the Windex away, Harry retreated down the spiral staircase, catching sight of a shirtless Louis sitting at the breakfast bench with Jessamy.

“Soggy cornflakes for breakfast?” Harry asked, sitting down next to Jessamy. She was turning her nose up at it and pushing the bowl away.

“Nothing wrong with cornflakes.  They’re a standard,” Louis defended, scooping mouthfuls in until his bowl was empty.

“Don’t worry, Jess. I’ll make us some pancakes, yeah? Sound good?” Harry asked, watching her eyes light up while Louis scoffed.

“You two are right little princesses. Too good for a bowl of cereal. I see how it is.”

“So you don’t want my pancakes, then, I take it?” Harry asked with a smirk as he slipped an apron on and took a pan out, pouring oil in. “Was thinking of making banana pancakes. Those are my speciality, aren’t they Jess? And whipped cream, golden syrup… no? Okay, more for me and Jessie Bug.”

“Pancake!” Jessamy said, clapping.

Harry was busy mixing the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt into a large glass bowl before he poured the milk, egg and oil in, mixing until the substance was smooth. Suddenly he felt Louis crowding up behind him, smaller arms hooking around his abdomen and peeking around to watch as Harry worked.

“You know I’d never pass up your pancakes,” Louis amended, placing a kiss on Harry’s shoulder-blade, pulling out the dimples in Harry’s emerging grin.

Even when they weren’t sleeping or napping, when Harry was preparing something for his two favourite people in the world… It was always Louis pressed against Harry, arms hooking around his middle. Even when they weren’t in bed, Harry was always the little spoon.

“TUNK!” Jessamy suddenly shouted, and a moment later, a three month old Golden Retriever puppy was at her stool, trying to jump up and wagging his tail furiously. Jessamy wriggled to get off her seat and chase the puppy around the kitchen until they both crashed into Harry’s legs.

“Watch where you’re going, darling. Dad's cooking,” Louis told her, bending to pick the puppy up. “I think Tunk’s hungry, let’s give him some breakfast, eh?”

 

*****

 

It was mid-afternoon and the Tomlinson’s (plus one Tunk Tomlinson) had retired to Harry and Louis’ king sized bed for an afternoon nap. In each other’s arms they’d fallen asleep. Jessamy had been adamant that Tunk get his nap time with them, so there they all were, fast asleep on a lazy Sunday. Harry was once again the little spoon with Louis tucked up behind him, one of his legs thrown between both of Harry’s and one arm flung around Harry’s tummy. Jessamy was nestled against Harry’s chest, her little head resting against Harry’s strong heartbeat, her hand placed on top of Louis’, both held there against Harry’s middle. Tunk was lying at Louis’ feet, his chin rested on the heel of Louis’ foot. It would have been a treasure for any onlooker to inadvertently witness, a little girl asleep with her Dad’s and her dog. It soon began to rain heavily, the grey clouds gathering as the Tomlinson’s slumbered unawares, their chests rising and falling delicately. It began to get torrential, raindrops hitting the Earth with fury and splattering against the windowpanes. The loud hiss of the rain and the eventual clap of thunder caused Tunk to jolt awake and growl. Harry groaned, feeling groggy, eyes slowly peeling open. Jessamy was climbing over him and settling herself in the middle between Harry and Louis. Another clap of thunder caused Tunk to whimper and scurry up onto the pillow beside Harry, placing himself just under Harry’s nose. Awake now, Harry reached out and softly stroked the puppy and sat up slowly in bed, catching sight of an awesome bolt of purple thunder streak the sky. Harry turned his attention to Louis and Jessamy, a fond smile quirking the corners of his lips. She was asleep again, clinging to Louis who was also stowed safely away in his dreams. Her little fingers were clutching his shoulders and she lay, tucked under his chin.

Harry couldn’t help himself and didn’t hesitate to reach for his camera with the large lens. Turning on his side to get a good view, Harry zoomed in and focused the lens, squinting one eye shut, he snapped several photos and made quick work of connecting his camera to the laptop, quickly logging into his Instagram account.

 _‘Shushhhhh, Daddy Louis and Jessie Bug are asleeping…’_ he titled the picture and uploaded it, a secret smile on his mouth, Harry tossed the laptop and camera to the floor once it was uploaded and saved and the fans were having a frenzy. Harry slumped back to bed against them, trying not to giggle loudly when Tunk started licking his toes. Closing his eyes and ready to drift back to sleep again, Harry found the sharpie Louis had used to write all over Harry with last night underneath his pillow. Smirking to himself, Harry uncapped the lid and leaned over Jessamy, tongue poking out to the side as he wrote on Louis’ forehead, ‘Has a big fat crush on Harry,’. Sniggering at his own cleverness, Harry next drew love hearts on Louis’ neck, stopping only when Louis twitched a little bit. He waited, watching as Louis stilled again. Leaning over Jessamy now, Harry wrote on Louis’ rib, ‘Let’s have another baby…’ Harry was wonderfully subtle like that. Grinning stupidly to himself, Harry tossed the sharpie away and flung his arm out over Jessamy and Louis like a protective wing, letting his eyelashes flutter shut, sleep claiming him once again as indigo shades of lightning pulsed past the windows.


End file.
